


Time

by stardropdream



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:43:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fay smiles at him, and it isn’t one of those painfully distant ones, but one of those soft, genuine ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ April 13, 2012.

“You always look so serious, Kuro-sama,” Fay says quietly, “Even when you’re happy.”  
  
“Shut up,” is the only response he can mutter out, because it’s distracting to have Fay’s hands on his cheeks, fingers tracing along his cheekbones and slipping over the short hair above his ear. Fay smiles at him, and it isn’t one of those painfully distant ones, but one of those soft, genuine ones. The kind that looks as if it’ll break in two if he looks for too long, but damn it, he’s going to look.   
  
Fay laughs, and the smile reaches his eyes, lighting them up, making the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way Kurogane had never seen it before. His hands slip back, cup the back of his head, draws him close, and Kurogane only has time to think that it’s about damn time before Fay’s kissing him, drawing him close. And he only has one hand to do it, but damn it, he lifts his hand, curls it against Fay’s back and draws him in close, too, so that they’re, well. Close. And it’s how it’s meant to be, he thinks. He’ll never say it out loud because Fay would just make fun of him (forever) about it, but the thought is there.   
  
And so he kisses him back and it’s too much and not enough all at once. It isn’t chaste, it burns.   
  
Fay’s lips and mouth and tongue press against him. There’s an urgency, a fierceness, and Kurogane welcomes the selfish honesty, welcomes Fay’s concrete decision—and a decision he sticks to and takes, because he wants it. And isn’t about to pretend he doesn’t want it. There’s something comforting about the way Fay’s fingers curl tight into his hair and jerk him upwards.  
  
The movement is too quick, though, and all over his body tenses up in pain. He hisses into the kiss and Fay’s already about to pull away, smile apologetically, but instead the hand on Fay’s back lifts and curls into his hair, pulling him back down. And it’s him kissing Fay and Fay _kissing him back_ and there’s comfort in that, even if his shoulder aches.   
  
But Fay’s holding onto him like he needs this, like he needs it and doesn’t know how long he has. His hands snarl in Kurogane’s short hair, holds tight and drags closer. _Yes, you_ he seems to say with the roll of his tongue and the press of his teeth against his bottom lip, biting down on it gently for a moment before diving in deeper.   
  
_You._   
  
And he responds, hand moving down over his back, unsure but as confident as he can manage, feeling him solid and heavy beside him, taking what he wants, wanting what he wants. Everything is lying out before them and it’s enough to hold on and take it. He isn’t drifting away, he’s pushing at him at one shoulder, avoiding the injury, pushing him down on the bed and pinning him there, moving so he’s over him, still kissing him. He can feel the shift of fabric, the warm press of legs straddling his legs.   
  
His breathing’s getting rougher, heavier, and the air is thudding in his lungs. He feels half-dizzy—but maybe that’s the blood loss and his body protesting the injuries shifting under taut bandages. Fay is demanding, but gentle. He takes what he wants, but without disrupting any injuries. Hands fall down onto his chest, press there but avoiding the jag of open wounds.   
  
And then Fay jabs his knuckles into the back of Kurogane’s neck, crumples down the fabric near his shoulder. It’s good, though. He feels himself pressing up, kissing him hungrily as Fay’s making _noises_ into his mouth, tongue tracing the lines of his teeth and mouth, drinking down the soft growls. It’s good. He keeps holding to Fay’s hair—that damn hair. It’s soft, but thicker than it looks between his fingers. His hand shifts through his hair, moves to cup his jaw, thumb resting just under his ear where the bone curves away from his skull and it fits.   
  
Fay says something but it’s lost in the heat of their mouth, and then turns his head, nose bumping into Kurogane’s—and then Fay’s pulling away, laughing breathlessly, stripping away his kimono like it’s on fire, hands falling back down onto his chest, touching at bare skin around the zig-zags of bandages.   
  
“Bastard,” Kurogane says into Fay’s mouth, trying to kiss him again but Fay’s laughing—breathless, disbelieving. Things are crashing down around them but just picking back up again and his fingers curl against Kurogane’s chest, hold there. Touching him. Feeling that he’s real, too, solid and heavy beneath him.   
  
Fay’s response is a strange sparkle in his eye, the way he tugs on Kurogane’s bottom lip, bites and sucks it into his mouth as if in apology, but his eyes are laughing when he pulls back.   
  
“Sorry,” he says, breathless. His hands fall down his chest and he shakes his head. Hair falls over his one eye as he ducks his head, surveying Kurogane’s chest, making sure he isn’t more injured—although he can smell the blood if Kurogane starts to bleed. Fay tilts his head to the side, and hair spills over his shoulder and, well, maybe Kurogane is staring. It doesn’t matter. Fay smiles. “Is it okay?”   
  
Kurogane tilts his head back, defiant. His injuries are nothing (or, well, they’re definitely something and his shoulder in particular is aching but like hell he’s going to let that distract him) and he snorts.   
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“You keep saying that,” Fay teases, but looks relieved, or perhaps still a bit unsure. He leans in closer, kisses at Kurogane’s mouth—but much sweeter this time and before Kurogane can start to kiss him back he’s already pulling away. “So grumpy!”   
  
Kurogane starts to say something but only makes it to “You nmpf—” before Fay’s tugging on his lip harder and kissing him again, his leg hooking up over his hip so that their hips align and Kurogane—well, it’s enough to make him stop breathing for a moment and then press up to meet him, grunting softly into Fay’s mouth.   
  
Fay pulls away again, though, laughing again—this time it is a disbelieving laugh as he pulls the kimono off Kurogane’s shoulders. His gaze flickers down to the left shoulder, lingers there, his expression softening in a way he’s never seen before.   
  
“Hey,” he chokes out, because he’s forgotten how to talk again he doesn’t there to be room for the doubts and the distance to creep in again.   
  
“Hmm,” Fay hums, and it isn’t a sad sound. He’s smiling down at Kurogane, lifting a hand to touch at his cheek, holds it there. And in that moment he says more than he’s ever said before, all without saying a word.   
  
Kurogane moves his hand, takes his wrist gently, and tugs.   
  
“Come here,” he says, blushing, and tugs again. His voice rumbles out lower than usual, the tension in his throat causing him to forget how to breathe. So he translates the words he doesn’t say, never says, into the touch of his hand, soft against Fay’s wrist.   
  
Fay goes down willingly, but instead of kissing him on the mouth again instead moves over his jaw, his chin, down his neck, over his collarbone. He drifts near the injured shoulder, hesitates, and hangs his head over it, not daring to touch it but wanting to. Kurogane holds his breath, then tilts his head to the side so he can kiss him again and Fay takes in a shaky kind of breath before he’s kissing him again and rolling his hips down against him.   
  
They both groan, and Fay pulls away with a short gasp before kissing down his neck. He bites down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough for Kurogane to swallow thickly. He can feel Fay’s smile against his throat, feel the soft touch of lips and tongue around his adam’s apple, over the hollow of this throat, the jut of his collarbone beneath soft lips. His mind fogs up. Fay’s hands slide up, touch at the areas away from his wounds, wounds that will eventually knot up, become old knotted scars. Not that he cares. Especially if it means Fay’ll be there to slide his hands over him from now on.   
  
He grinds his hips up against Fay’s as Fay grinds his down. The heat from the contact, the friction, rises and spreads. Fay sucks on a spot where shoulder meets neck and his hair brushes against his skin and Kurogane almost shivers. Fay’s hands move down, untie the fabric at his hips, pulls and moves aside, then moves blindly to undo his own kimono, letting it fall down off his shoulders.   
  
Fay’s movements are contradictions. His mouth claims Kurogane’s with a fierceness that doesn’t match the softness of his fingertips, gentle and gliding over his skin and chest. Warm, mapping him out, memorizing the lines. Kurogane grabs Fay’s chin again, pulls him up to kiss him again, hard. Fay’s kissing back, clinging back.   
  
“Off,” Fay mumbles against Kurogane’s mouth, pulling off the last of the fabric. “Now.”   
  
Kurogane grunts, lifts his hips so that Fay can toss away the rest of the fabric and shrug out of his own, naked and pressing down against him. They both suck in sharp breaths and it’s almost too much.   
  
Kurogane touches him, keeps touching him everywhere he can and with everything he has—palms, knuckles, fingertips, the backs of his nails. All new ways to touch him, all new ways to bring him down close. There’s only one hand to touch him with but it’s enough and not enough, but it’s okay—it’s okay.   
  
Fay’s still touching at Kurogane’s chest, can’t make himself stop—traces at the skin, the sweat, the beginnings of scars.   
  
Kurogane arches up, curses softly, grinds their bodies down closer. He curses again when Fay’s hand drifts down, fists around his cock. He sucks in a sharp breath, pulls away to bite back a sharp moan building in his throat. Fay’s smiling at him, perhaps a little hopelessly, other hand taking Kurogane’s, guiding him down until his fingers curl around Fay’s cock and strokes. He’s trying not to thrust forward too much but his hips roll and shudder without him really noticing it and Fay’s laughing, breathlessly melting off into tight little moans when Kurogane’s hand moves.   
  
“Do you—” Fay gasps out, hair tangled and twined together, falling over his eye and against his mouth as he breathes in, leaning over him, shoulders hunched. His free hand slides down Kurogane’s chest, gentle, then back up again, feather-light fingers against his neck and under his chin and against his mouth. “This is—”  
  
“What?” Kurogane manages to choke out because the idiot’s not making any sense and he keeps shaking his head, laughing and smiling and looking so damn happy that it’s a bit distracting.   
  
“It doesn’t hurt?” Fay asks, tilting his head to the side.   
  
“Shut up,” Kurogane says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. His fist curls around Fay’s cock again, strokes it.  
  
Fay opens his mouth to say something but all that comes out is a tiny “Oh,” before he’s thrusting his hips up.   
  
“You’re—”  
  
“Yeah,” Kurogane says, not really sure what he’s answering, but Fay doesn’t seem to mind because he presses down against him, their hands caught between the two of them, and then Fay’s batting his hand aside and taking both their cocks in his hand, stroking, fingers gliding over them.   
  
It’s already too much—the friction and the heat and the pressure. Fay gasps out quietly, doubles over and buries his forehead in the crook of Kurogane’s neck. He grinds down against his hand, and Kurogane tries to focus on breathing now. He can feel Fay’s quick breaths against his neck and it’s distracting. He swallows thickly, jerking his hips up. The heat swells and he closes his eyes, moaning out when Fay’s hand strokes him from base to tip and lingers.   
  
Fay whispers his name against his neck and Kurogane manages a sound that breaks up and dissolves into a sharp breath. Fay’s fingers circle in, press in, hold him in. And then it’s too much at once and Kurogane buries his face into Fay’s hair as he comes, thrusting his hips up in jerky, uneven movements, spilling out into Fay’s hand who kisses and sucks on his neck with a frenzied kind of moan. He whispers Kurogane’s name again, and it isn’t begging but it’s almost there.   
  
It takes him a moment for his vision to clear, to remember where he is, to feel Fay grinding his hips down on him. This time, it’s Kurogane to push Fay’s hand away, take him in between his fingertips, and stroking him to completion. He doesn’t last longer than that, coming with a low moan, kisses over every inch of him he can reach. Lips and eyelids, cheeks and chin, ears and neck and shoulders (so lightly over his shoulders, as if he will break). Fay chokes out, spills into Kurogane’s hand and Kurogane tightens his grip.   
  
For a long moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy breathing. And then Fay pulls himself up, shuddering a couple of times. Then he leans down and kisses Kurogane again. It’s softer this time, slower. Fay pulls away and Kurogane wants to pull him back, tangle his fingers in his hair—but he resists. His hand feels sticky, but he feels strange just lying there as Fay smiles down at him. And then he collapses against Kurogane’s chest, kissing at his collarbone and then down against his solar plexus. And then he simply rests his cheek against his skin and stays there, breathing out a happy sigh.   
  
His gaze flickers up and locks eyes with Kurogane. He smiles, that same warm smile that Kurogane isn’t used to seeing yet. And after a moment he feels himself smiling back.   
  
Fay hums out softly, then closes his eyes, leaning heavily against him. “You make the cutest faces.”   
  
“What the hell,” Kurogane says, but really too exhausted to be too angry at the stupid things the idiot says. He huffs out, and Fay rises and falls with the rise and fall of his chest as he sighs.   
  
Fay laughs. And then slings an arm around Kurogane’s chest, hand pressing over the wound in his sigh very softly, a gentle touch, ready to snap back at the smallest sign of discomfort. But instead of tensing up, Kurogane just relaxes.   
  
“Whatever,” he says, and knows he’s probably still smiling and smiling for so long is strange, but it’s okay.   
  
“I wanted to do more with you,” Fay says with a sigh.   
  
Kurogane feels himself blush. “H- hn.”  
  
“Later, though,” Fay whispers out, not opening his eyes yet. He does look sleep. Kurogane is exhausted, too, despite everything. He grunts softly. Fay’s fingertips glide over Kurogane’s chest again, absent-minded patterns across the criss-cross of his bandages.   
  
“Yeah,” Kurogane says, and even though Fay’s eyes are closed, he’s still looking away, blushing forever.   
  
Fay hums out softly, and pulls away long enough to pull the blanket up and over them before settling back down against him, pillowing his cheek against Kurogane’s good shoulder. He leans in and kisses his jaw.   
  
“Kuro-sama,” he whispers against Kurogane’s ear, weighing the name out again, growing used to using it again, the same but different—closer, fonder. There’s a warmth to his voice, and so much left unspoken—but that is how it’ll be for them, Kurogane thinks. Unspoken, but there.   
  
“Yeah,” he manages to say, voice strained.   
  
He still refuses to look at him, and Fay kisses his ear, already burning a bright red. Fay curls in closer, settling down beside him but around him, arms curling around Kurogane’s arm, face tucking in against his neck, his hair spilling over his shoulder and splaying out against Kurogane’s collar.   
  
“Hmph,” Kurogane grunts, and leans his head in against Fay’s.


End file.
